Making It Right
by BitterEloquence
Summary: Kurt helps out things into perspective for a grieving Scott and has an interesting interlude with Ororo that knocks things out of perspective for the both of them


Making it Right  
  
by: bitter_eloquence  
  
Archive: Be my guest...just give me credit or I'll sic my Horde of Rabid Plot Bunnies ( on you!  
  
Feedback: Loved and adored, critiques worshiped and fawned upon.  
  
Warnings: Spoilers for the end of the X2 movie so read at thine own risk  
  
Summery: Kurt's own thoughts on how life no longer makes sense leads him to both give and receive comfort on a dark and stormy night.  
  
Disclaimer: Ain't mine no matter how many of Santa's Elves I might bribe otherwise. I promise to return them in fairly good condition with only a minimal amount of lovebites...^v^  
  
A/N: I mangled Robert Frost's wonderful poem "Stopping by the Woods" for this fanfic and must also give credit to the poety soul of Reinhold Niebuhr for writing the "Serenity Prayer" that's been posted a thousand times on religious texts and cards. Now on with the fic!  
  
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Why do we hate?  
  
In the beautiful majesty of the world that is Gods creation...why do we hate?  
  
He didn't know.....and that saddened the man known as Kurt Wagner more then he could express. Thoughts such as this kept him up at night as they had often in his brief life in this world. Because he looked different, people feared, despised and even hated him without having even exchanged a single word with him. They did not know what sort of man he was or even knew what lay beneath the oh so thin layer of his indigo skin.  
  
He of course knew from past experiance that such useless contemplations would never yeild an answer no matter how many times he tried to view the problem from different angles. He pitied the people who could never see beyond something as inconsequential as how a person looked. They were all God's children in his eyes no matter whether they had white, brown or green skin for beneath it all He had given them a heart and the same red blood that coursed through their veins...they all had a soul. Yet despite this, humanity seemed to speed so much of their lives making distinctions and pointing out the small differences between themselves, seemed to take great pleasure and passion in it in fact and that made no sense to him.  
  
But then, so many things didn't make sense to him, especially in these unsettled and crazy days where he found himself adrift in a world he was painfully new and unaware of. Things were so much more complicated then they'd been back within the comforting familiarity of the Munich Circus. There, he might have been viewed askance and perhaps with the occassional side-ways glance of mistrust by those who did not know him, but at least there he knew how things worked. Life had been a simple routine, a repetative cycle of days that melted one into the other in a slow blurr of contentment.  
  
Perhaps he'd been mistaken to leave the familiarity of the circus at the proddings of the Amrican scout. Perhaps he should have never left Germany to come to this unfamiliar place. And perhaps he should have gone home immediately after realizing that the brighter lights of the American circus had not been for him. And perhaps the world would end tomorrow and he'd meet St. Peter a lot sooner then he expected for all the good this line of thought was doing him! Unconsciously, deep midnight indigo brows drew together over those gleaming gold eyes as he stared out the window where he'd been perched in a comfortable crouch for the past hour or so.  
  
The days had been grey and overcast for the past two days and finally, the elements had let loose her fury upon the West Chester area with a vengance. Rain pattered down on the roof in rhythmatic sheets, the thin silvered lines of water that traced in wild paths across the windowpane mere inches from his face glinting and throwing the light back defiantly. The occassional flash of lightning lit the air in bright flashes of silvered light that bathed the land in eerie tones before darkness reclaimed its dominance over the night. Kurt's mishappen and oddly shaped fingertips pressed lightly to the cool pane of glass while he traced a snaking trail of rainwater down the window as a soft sigh rose to pass between his lips. That long, sinuous tail that was usually so active and in constant motion seemed to share his subdued mood as it curled in a listless pile about his ankles the spade-like tip falling off the edge of the windowseat he sat upon in a lifeless manner. He knew that such a mood was no normal for him but like all humans he was not immune to the occassional bouts of depression and solemn feelings. He'd like to think his blue mood, if one will pardon the pun, was because of the dank and rather depressing turn the weather had taken in the last few days.  
  
Indeed, he was so deeply immersed in his rather subdued train of thoughts that he didn't even hear the soft footfall of feet behind him and when a slender hand fell in a soft, but utterly unexpected weight upon his shoulder he almost had a heart-attack. His mouth opened in a stiffled cry as he instinctively 'ported with the characteristic explosion of imploding air that had been dubbed 'bamf' because of the sound and the acrid smell of brimstone as blue-black smoke waffed about a rather surprised looking Storm. The startled German had only ported a few feet away, his strong and limber feet having caught hold of the railing of the stairs behind him to lend him a perch as those wide gold eyes looked to the resident weather goddess in still startled surprise for a moment.  
  
"Mein Gott!!" A tri-fingered hand pressed to his chest where his heart felt as if it were going to leap out of at any moment now as those wide golden eyes peered at the wryly smiling Ororo for another second before dropping away. "You gave me a start....I am sorry for overreacting...." Came his mumbled apology as he hopped down from his precarious perch to land on those oddly shaped feet with a soft patter of twin-toes hitting the wooden floorboards. Like always, he stood in that half-couch that hid the lean height of that lithe frame as he moved to join Ororo by the window. His tail had definately been shocked awake as well as it coiled and whisked back and forth behind him in arching S-curves; that diamond-shaped tip flicking back and forth independantly as it quirked and swished with nervous energy. Ororo chuckled softly once the tense little moment dissolved and she offered Kurt an apologetic little smile as she shook her head. Those silvered strands of moonspun hair whispered about the elegant lines of her cheeks as those shining eyes gleamed with a tired sort of amusement when they met Kurt's rather hesitant golden ones. He was embarassed at having overreacted in such a manner and those midnight curls fell about the sharp points of his elven ears and into that scar-etched visage as he bowed his head in chagrine. "  
  
"No Kurt, it's me who should be apologizing...." Her voice was a glorious and sinful pleasure to his ears as they rose in low silken tones, the cool and soothing lilt of amusement coloring her voice as the tender line of her lips quirked up in a soft little smile that secretly sent his most secret of hearts aflutter a bit. Just thinking about the rather illogical and inappropriate attraction he had for the graceful storm goddess sent fresh flashes of uncertainty flying through him and robbing the German of the abilitiy to meet her eyes as he looked anywhere but at her. Ororo could feel the slight raising of temperature along his cheeks and could tell that he was blushing though that dark indigo hued skin gave no sign of such a thing. "I just saw you staring out the window and wanted to make sure you were okay....."  
  
"I am fine, thank you Fräulein Ororo...I...was simply looking out on the storm." His tail lashed back and forth in those never-ceasing slow whisks, betraying his uncertainty as he moved to perch once more on the edge of the windowseat; those golden depths staring out at the night-cloaked grounds. Ororo noddded slowly as her gaze found the wild majesty of nature beating against the window, the gleam of appreciative wonder in her eyes showing how much she at least enjoyed the storm. Kurt shot her furtive glances from the corner of those long-lashed golden eyes as they stood in silence for a moment, his own attention split between the lash of rain across the window while Storm seemed to give her full attention to nature's wonder.  
  
"Are you happy here?" Those dark velvety eyes never strayed from the window though the unexpected sound of her voice drew those golden orbs to the delicate profile of her face. There was an unearthly quality to that softly sculpted face that had him wondering if she and Dr. Grey had been angels when they'd stepped into his lonely church that fateful night not so very long ago. With the light shining like a halo in her hair about her from behind now as it had done then, setting those moongilt strands of hair to silvered light about that creamy mocoa skin, it wasn't very hard to imagine one of God's Angels sent down from heaven. Those gleaming orbs slowly slid away however as a small frown puckered his sweeping indigo brows to cause a tiny furrow to crinkle into view. He took a moment to gather his words so that his answer to that rather...loaded question could be as clear as possible. Was he happy here? Honestly...he didn't know...things were so very different from any life he'd ever experianced. Each day was a lesson in mystification and terror as he was explosed to things that made the German realize just how sheltered a life he'd trully lived. One of those deceptivly bulky and seemingly clumsy fingers rose to trace along the markings that had been painstakingly carved into his skin. Though Ororo did not know the meaning of those beautiful whorls and designs but she knew it tied in with his deep faith in his religion...Sins he'd said...she wondered silently what sin he was touching upon now as he gathered his thoughts to answer her.  
  
"I.....am not unhappy..." Finally came his quiet reply, that long curving tail moving with a slinky grace of it's own to coil and slide sinuously about his ankles as he gathered his knees to his chest. His perch atop the windowseat of precarious at best and when he flinched at the unexpected touch of Ororo's hand to his shoulder once more, the movement almost sent him toppling to the floor in a embarrasing manner. Those liquid gold eyes flew upwards to peer almost hesitantly at her from beneath the ridiculously thick fringe of his lashes as surprisingly sensitive and well-formed lips parted in a soundless movement of shy confusion. Those slender mocoa digits curled cross his shoulder with only a thin layer of fabric seperating indigo from soft brown. The gentle pressure they exerted across his shoulder effecting both more then either would like to admit. For Ororo, it was the oppertunity to feel the delightful play of well-delveloped muscles beneath that etched skin and for Kurt....a painful temptation and a reminder of just how far removed she was from his own mishappen existance. Molten gold met the unflinching darkness of those exotic, almond shaped eyes as Ororo stared silently at him for a long moment. An unreadable expression gleamed in those heavily lashed velvety depths as they met painfully uncertain and even shy golden hues. Kurt wanted to look away...wanted to flee far away actually but he found himself and his gaze trapped by the compelling look in those gleaming dark depths. He could feel his breath catch in his breath, the soft hitch of air in his chest as it was caught by the lump that seemed to have risen within his throat making it hard to breathe not to mention think as he found himself unable to tear his gaze from Ororo's. That stood that way for what felt like an eternity until finally with the faintest narrowing of those silken dark lashes Ororo lean closer and Kurt's heart stuttered to a stop within his chest.  
  
It was then that the soft, drumming scrape of feet coming up the stairs behind them met both their ears and Kurt was the one who jerked back as if slapped. There was a panicked look in those wide golden orbs, as if he'd been caught doing something wrong and he wrung his hands furtively before him while that long tail whipped back and forth in an anxious manner.It was then that the Scott's stony face could be seen as he climbed with the weary movements of a man who lived only because the routines of life demanded he crawl out of his lonly bed every night. Those same routines demanded he shave and get dresssed...demanded that he eat and even go through the motions of living though his heart was no in it. While he had never been a particularly expressive man, even the most insensitive of people could notice how he shut the entire world out in his grief and merely went on living like a zombie. It was a sight that broke Ororo's heart anew every time she saw it and she turned away, unable to bear the grim setness in her friend's face as he walked past them seeming not even to notice as he continued to walk down the hallway to the room he and Jean had once shared. Kurt watched the shadow of a man walk past and his expression twisted up into a grimace as he found himself torn for a moment. He had of course noticed the lack-luster way Scott moved about the school, his handsome features unmovable and stony in their resolve. And like everyone else, he found himself filled with echoes of sorrow whenever the man stepped into the room with his oppressive grief wrapped about broad shoulders like a cloak.  
  
"Entschuldigen Sie mich," He murmured softly as he slipped to his feet in that graceful manner. Ororo's eyes grew wide with surprise as she guessed what plan the obviously crazed German had hatched in his mind as he slipped past her to follow Scott's retreating form. Beautifully shaped lips parted almost as if to protest though she couldn't utter a word as he walked after the silent man. Kurt's oddly shaped feet made no noise as he walked down the hallway, the soft click of Scott's door closing the only sound to fill the air as he approached the oppressively solid door to knock quietly upon the wood. "Herr Summers?" His voice rose quietly, the sound traveling through the door all the same however to reach the man beyond. Unseen eyes tightened a bit in a grimace as Scott caught the man known as Nightcrawler's words and for a moment he was tempted to ignore him and just go curl atop the bed like he wanted. "Herr Summers? Might I have a moment of your time?" A long sigh is pulled from Scott's chest as he turned to the door, one large hand carelessly twisting the knob to give Kurt a view of that grim visage once again.  
  
"What do you need, Mr. Wagner?" Came the man's weary sigh as those obscured eyes looked at the indigo mutant with barely disguised annoyance. Kurt could only smile, a helpless little gesture that revealed the sharpened points of his teeth as a small shrug lifted his shoulders.  
  
"Just a moment of your time, please? Might I come in?" Though he wanted to simply shut the door, close out this odd German man and the rest of the world while at it, Scott could not find the hardness of heart to do such a thing. Instead he stepped back from the door, letting Kurt slip past in his odd way of walking on those duel-toed feet, the third digit never seeming to touch the ground as he walked in seemingly continual tip-toe. Molten gold eyes looked to the grim faced man as Kurt's tail curved nervously close, that sinuous length wrapping about one leg restlessly before uncoiling to swish back and forth once more through the air.  
  
"What did you need?" Scott did not seem particularly inviting or open to conversation as he moved to lower himself into the comfortable chair Jean had bought him a few years back. The room was filled with memories of his dead lover....indeed it was filled with pain as well and one might wonder why any sane man would surround himself with such pain and sorrow. But Scott was beginning to doubt his own sanity as it was and no doubt if he told anyone the reason he clutched these memories close, even the painful ones, in order to remember Jean as best he could...they would think him mad. But he'd rather go mad then ever face the terrifying reality of not being able to remember the way the sun had glowed across Jean's hair, setting those bright strands aflame and crackling with life. He did not want to forget the mingled scents of lavender and jasmine that clung to her after a shower, the ellusive scent that still clung to her pillow whenever he buried his face into the soft material. He did not want to forget the side-long sly smiles she'd gifted him in the middle of a boring lecture or meeting that had lifted his spirits and reminded him that even this torture could not last forever....maybe that sort of hellish torture could not have lasted but this hell he currently found himself in stretched out forever in front of him. For it would never end without her to gift him with one of those sly little smiles....  
  
His thoughts were hidden from Kurt however as he sat stiffly in his chair, that unreadable face turned in the indigo man's general direction though his attention snapped back to Kurt as he quietly slipped the door close behind him and looked to the sitting Scott silently for a moment. Those molten gold orbs were unreadable as he watched the man who was trying so hard to remain strong though grief had all but broken his back beneath the weight of pain and sorrow. "The woods are lovely, dark and deep......" His voice rose in a low murmur, the faint traces of his German accent coloring the words but not the meaning as he watched Scott with that calm look in his eyes. "But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep...." Scott's head had risen at the quoted words and Kurt could see the the skin around his face tighten beneath those ruby-lensed glasses as his eyes narrowed. Those dark brows drew together in the beginnings of a scowl, his expression darkening only to relax fractionally as Kurt held up one hand almost as if to forestall any arguments. "A poet named Frost wrote those words a long time ago though I'm sure you already knew that. Do you know what that poem is really about, Herr Summers? It's not about stopping by a snow-cloaked forest....though once again I'm sure you already knew that." An intent light now glowed in those rich eyes as they peered at the man known as Cyclops from beneath a thick fringe of curling lashes.  
  
"Death..." That single word was rasped and drug from Scott's throat almost unwillingly as his hands curled into tight fists for a moment. Kurt shook his head slowly, sadly even as that burning gaze drew away from the other man.  
  
"Nein....it's about choosing life..." The German stepped closer to Scott and the man who'd never flinched away from anything before did so now as he jerked in his chair the tension running through his body almost making that well-toned frame tremble like the leaves outside as they faced the fury of the storm blowing across the land. Though Kurt could not see his eyes, he knew the man was eyeing him warily as he slipped a mishappen hand into his jacket, pulling out a small slip of paper to offer to the man. "These are words of great wisdom that have seen me through even the heaviest of harships the Lord has laid upon my shoulders...I give them now to you in hopes that you will come to realize that he never gives us a burden that he does not think we can bear." Those well-shaped indigo lips quirked up into a small smile as that tri-fingered hand held out the well worn slip of paper to the man. Pain flashed across Scott's face before a trembling hand rose to take it from Kurt, his fingers curling almost brusquely as he pulled it away from the German with a curt nod. Kurt merely smiled sweetly then and bowed his head in a small nod before backing away. "I will leave you now, Herr Summers....I shall light a candle for you and Doktor Grey tonight and pray for you both...." And as his words trailed away, he turned to leave, those odd feet moving gracefully across the floor.  
  
Scott did not look up even after he heard the door click shut behind the German. Instead his eyes trained down moodily on the creased and folded piece of paper for a long moment before he got up the nerve to unfold it. The words he read on them were familier and they sent of twist to his heart after the first few words.  
  
God Grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change,  
  
the Courage to change the things I can.  
  
And the Wisdom to know the Difference  
  
For one moment he hated Kurt for daring to place such words before him and his free hand curled into a tight fist as a grimacing snarl twisted his expression into one of helpless anger before he shot a hateful glare at the door where the man had disapeared through mere moments before. He was about to crumple the offensive paper up, intent on taking his wrath out on it instead when he caught the neatly scrawled words below it and they made him pause as his eyes flashed over the words instead with that heated and angry gaze. And with them a new emotion was born in the place of his flash of anger....confusion mingled with pain for these next words were not ones you heard often past the familier and often quoted first lines of the prayer.  
  
Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time,  
  
accepting hardship as a pathway to peace, taking this sinful world as it is,  
  
not as I would have it; trusting that you will make all things right if I surrender to Your Will; so that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with you forever in the next  
  
Scott read over those lines again...and then another time until he could not pick out the words as liquid filled his eyes and turned his gaze to wavering lines. Tears splashed down onto the lenses of his glasses, those hot droplets scattering across the blood-hued quartz as his face tightened in grief anew. He didn't know why the words affected him as much as they did....he didn't understand the sudden lightening in his chest as if something had been untangled from about his heart. The words seemed to have almost been written just for him in that moment and the man known as Scott Summers simply curled in the comfortable chair, a memory from his beloved Jean, and did something he hadn't done since that terrible moment on the Blackhawk when his love had disapeared beneath a smashing wave of frothing white water.....he cried.....  
  
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And on the other side of the doorway, Nightcrawler stood, his tail a limp and depressed line behind him as that midnight head dipped in saddened regret. He knew that it was in a way cruel to force the other man to face his grief...to let go of some of the pain festering within him but that didn't make the German feel any better about himself for being the one to do it. Ororo slipped up behind him as he stood there in silent dejection, one hand fingering the worn beads of his rosary as he listened to the faint sounds of Scott's muffled sobs from behind the door. At the yet again unexpected touch of her hand to his shoulder, he jumped in startlement. Those tortured gold eyes flew to meet sympathetic chocolate orbs as a kind smile curved her lips in silent support. That scarred visage tightened a bit in pain before lowering once more though one his hand crossed his chest to rest lightly atop her own in equally silent acceptance.  
  
"Don't feel bad, Kurt....it was a wound that needed to be lanced...." That low, honeyed voice never failed to get his attention and those guilty eyes dared to rise once more in hesitant study of that angelic visage as they peeked out from beneath the thick veil of his long lashes. Ororo smiled softly and her hand slipped away only to slid about his waist, her other arm wrapping about him as well as she hugged him from behind. Kurt started once again, that leanly built acrobat's body going taut and stiff with surprise as he found himself enveloped in Ororo's sweetly scented embrace. Her arms crossed over his chest after a moment, one hand finding an oppisite hold on his shoulders as one cheek pressed in soft temptation into the crook of his shoulder where the skin was warm and carried the scents of insense and woods mingled with traces of sulphur. It was a scent she cherished and the long lengths of her lashes fell to cresent her cheeks as she simply held the trembling man.  
  
Kurt didn't know what to do for a moment as his mind conjured all sorts of panicked and wild thoughts. What was a man supposed to do when the secret object of his affections and sinfully carnal lust suddenly wrapped him up in such an intimate embrace? That long sinuous tail seemed to make up it's mind for him as it snaked about Ororo's slender waist, the prehensile length coiling in a warm weight across her midsection as the spaded end pressed into the small of her back in a familier and delightfully intimate manner. A long shuddering sigh was wrought from Kurt then before his control crumbled and he allowed himself a few guilty moments to enjoy this illicit embrace. His arms rose to curl atop hers in silent acceptance, those tri-fingered hands twining with her own atop the spotted material of his jacket. A flushed and darkened indigo cheek nestled into the silken ice of Ororo's hair as his own eyes slipped close in enjoyment; those silken skeins soft as moonbeams just as he'd imagined them to be. The pair stood that way for a small, wonderful eternity, both yielding silently to the unspoken attraction and unsaid feelings that stood between them with unsaid words....and for a moment...they didn't need them. Words were so clumsy and so utterly inept at expressing the depths of feeling where one simple touch...one feathered caress could more aptly make a point or express feeling then a thousand words ever could.  
  
But finally, the sounds of the school around them intruded upon the little pool of serenity they'd found as the front door slammed open and close downstairs, excited voices rising in greetings and laughing joking. Kurt pulled away with a soft, regretful sigh, that beautifully etched visage turning at the last moment to press a kiss on Ororo's cheek though his aim was a bit off and she felt a small thrill within her stomach as those warm tiers brushed fleetingly across the corner of her mouth before he pulled away fully. Those warm fingers slipped free of her own and she had no choice but to let him go as the slightly wide-eyed mutant turned to look at her. He too had noticed the misplaced kiss and she could see where his cheeks seemed to darken further, the heat from that indigo skin being caught in the telltale air that told her how furiously he was blushing indeed. A painfully shy smile was gifted to her as he backed away, the slow slinking grace of his tail uncoiling from about her waist another reminder of the distance that had suddenly sprung up between them and it was with confused bafflement that she watched the spaded-tail slip away completely. "Kurt I....." Her words were stilled however as he shook his head slowly, curling strands of thick hair whispering about the elegant points of his ear. He reached out to take her hand in his, those smooth mocoa fingers utterly pliable and still in his grip as he drew them up to his lips to press a soft, chivalrous kiss upon her knuckles.  
  
"Nein liebling....." His words were unusually husky to her ears as she looked at him with that faintly baffled and wistful look on her elegant face. "Thank you.....words cannot express it...but thank you...." Another warm kiss was graced upon her fingers before he released her hand and turned away. Ororo's brows knit together in confused uncertainty and she raised one hand almost as if to stop the German as he hurried away but those elegant digits dropped away to be gathered uncertainly to her chest. She didn't understand....the world had just taken a weird twist into the surreal and for once the Weather Goddess found herself adrift in a storm she didn't think she could control. And almost as if in sympathetic agreement, lightning flashed in a crack of thunder outside the window while the rain beat down harder on the mansion. Her life that had been spiraling out of control since Jean had disapeared beneath that wall of water suddenly seemed all the more otherworldly and confusing as she watched Kurt's tail disapear around a corner and wink out of sight. Silvered feathers whisked about her shoulders and face as she shook her head, that look of consternation still holding reign over her features as she turned away. Life didn't make sense anymore...maybe she herself should seek her bed and hope that tomorrow at least would resemble the order and serenity she'd cherished mere weeks before. Yes...maybe tomorrow would make sense...maybe tomorrow she'd wake up and Jean would be there laughing and so alight with life that she seemed to burn before the eyes and maybe she wouldn't find herself harboring these confusing feelings for a certain Kurt Wagner...maybe.....just maybe....  
  
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Translations:  
  
Mein Gott- My God  
  
Fräulein- Miss  
  
Entschuldigen Sie mich- Excuse me  
  
Nein- No  
  
Liebling- A term of endearmeant like "sweetheart", literally translates to "favorite" 


End file.
